


Bowling Games & Confectionery Dates

by kipnova



Series: YAMNSverse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Cas is leaving soon, College AU, Dean is a caretaker, Dean isn't happy about it, Family Issues, First Date, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Goodbyes, Highschool AU, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Violence, Pizza, Precious cinnamon rolls, YAMNS, bless him, bowling, but he is at the same time, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-05 00:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipnova/pseuds/kipnova
Summary: Castiel is leaving for college in one day, and Dean still hasn’t heard a single word from him since their camping trip. Instead of wasting yet another night by the phone, Dean agrees to go bowling with Charlie when invited. He'll get to spend an evening with one of his good friends, at least.What he doesn’t expect, however, is for Castiel to show up too.After a much-needed night out, Dean discovers what really kept Castiel out of his sights all week, and faces how much harder it’ll be to say goodbye a second time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back! I'm excited to hand this fic over to you so you can get to reading. However, I've got a quick couple things to mention ahead of time.  
>   
> First off, if you haven't read [ You Are My Night Sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806220/chapters/36788565) (YAMNS) yet, you might miss a few things on this one. If you're at all interested in taking in a longform fic beforehand to gain some context, then I recommend that. If not, then oh well. It wouldn't be the biggest of deals, I suppose.  
>   
> Secondly, a disclaimer. I will not be adding specific warning tags to any fic in this series, including this one. If that doesn’t concern you, then feel free to skip the rest of this note and get on with the reading. If that does concern you, [ click here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1117026) and you will be redirected to the main page for this series. There you will find more details on my deal with warnings.  
>   
> If you are still concerned, all I’m going to say for this fic, and for this series in general, is that if you want everything to be wrapped in a bow and blissfully unaware in this AU, then I recommend you don’t read on. Maybe only read fics that will precede YAMNS chronologically, so you can still get that dose of slow burn and leave it at that. Because there will be some ups that Dean and Cas face afterward, but there will also some downs that go pretty far down. They will experience _life_. How this series ends, how deeply it touches on real life issues along the way, respectfully I’m going to keep that mostly to myself and leave it up to you to figure out whether that level of uncertainty is worth your time and energy pursuing.  
>   
> In my opinion, the destination will be worth the journey. So I’d like to see you stick around and experience this ride with me. If not, then I thank you for getting however far you do, and I bid you safe and happy travels on whatever fics you come across in the future.

_Of-friggin’-course._

Dean smashed the big red button on the answering machine down. The big red button that made it stop. In fact, he went as far as to unplug the damn thing from the wall. He didn't need to hear the rest of the voicemail reminding him of his dentist appointment the next day.

Dean threw his keys on the kitchen counter, not even wanting or thinking to hang them up. Taking in a deep breath, he rolled his jacket off and tossed that on the counter as well. He propped himself on his elbows and let his head fall into his hands. He sighed. The noise that came out of his mouth next wasn't human.

Because of course the voicemail wasn't from Cas. And of course he had to get his hopes up anyway.

“Work that bad?”

Dean peered between his fingers. Sam, who was sitting at a stool hunched over some book, took a moment to glance above the pages and wait for an answer.

Dean shrugged. “Work was work.”

“Crowley still keeping you overtime?”

“Why else would I be home two hours late?”

“I don't know.” Sam dropped his eyes back to his book. “Maybe you stopped to see Cas or something.”

 _Cas._ What Dean would give to see that adorable, nerdy, flaky piece of trash right now…

“I take it Dad up and left again? His truck wasn't outside,” he said.

“Who knows.”

“Awesome…”

Dean rubbed his eyes to the point of seeing stars. He stood up straight and made his way towards the basement stairs. God, he was so ready to break into the liquor cabinet. After a week like that, who could blame him? The impulse was pure survival instinct at this point. And it's not like he had any Friday night plans anyway. Because a certain someone, despite being given plenty of reason and time to meet up one last time, went dead silent. No calls, no messages. No nothing. Cas was leaving for Chicago tomorrow, and Dean hadn't seen or heard from him since their camping trip.

Dean sighed. Even if Cas couldn't find the time to meet, it would've been nice to at least hear from the guy before he left. Dean had tried calling a few times himself, but apparently the only person who knew how to answer a phone at the Novak residence was Michael. And every time he called, Cas was oh so conveniently in the middle of yet another “family emergency.” _Right._ _Family emergency my ass._ When asked if he'd like to leave a message, Dean would just hang up. Nothing from him ever made it past Michael anyway—

The phone rang. Dean was halfway down the stairs; he still made it back to the receiver in the kitchen before Sam.

“Hello?” he blurted.

“Whoa, only two and a half rings this time. I think you broke a record. Expecting a call?”

Dean hesitated in letting his shoulders relax. “Hey Charlie,” he said. “What do you want?”

“What do I want? A proper greeting, maybe.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Good evening, Miss Middleton.”

“That wasn't proper, that was sarcastic.”

“It's been a very, very long day alright?”

“Ah. Well you're in luck, Winchester. I'm about to make it even longer—”

“I'm not interested.”

“—but in a good way! Hear me out. Please?”

Dean leant back on the wall and took in a deep breath. At least one of his friends still remembered he exists. “You have five seconds.”

Charlie made a short celebratory noise. “You up for a few games of bowling?”

Dean blinked. “No.”

“Aw, but it’s neon night,” Charlie pouted.

“That isn't going to persuade me,” Dean said, mocking her tone. “‘Sides, even if it did, my bowling shoes are probably buried deep in the basement.”

“Then dig them out.”

“That'd take hours.”

“Then rent some, duh.”

“I'd rather not go home with freaky fungus growin’ between my toes, thanks.”

Charlie scoffed. “Fine then. Ask Sam for me?”

“Only if you give him a ride.”

“Why??”

“Because if I give him a ride, you'll find a way to drag me into the bowling alley right along with him.”

“Damn it. You know me too well.”

Not wanting to argue further, Dean kept quiet. He started pawing at the cord of the phone.

Eventually, Charlie spoke up. “...I have coupons?”

“I'm good, thanks.”

“Oh come on. What else are you going to do?? It's the weekend! Let's have some fun!”

What else was he going to do? He'd only been waiting all week for Cas to call. And yeah, Dean was tired and anxious and so not in the mood, but really he was telling Charlie “no” because he still held onto a small bit of hope. Cas pulled through at the last minute, sometimes. Maybe this time would be one of them...

Screw it. As if the past week hadn't made it clear enough already.

“Alright fine. I'll go.” Dean said, ignoring the fact that felt like he was betraying his gut.

“Sweet!” Charlie cheered on the other end. “Meet me at the alley in thirty, okay?”

“Uh huh.” At that, he hung up the phone.

Dean had himself out of his shop jumper and back in his jacket soon enough. He dragged Sam into the car and told him he was coming whether he liked it or not. Fortunately, Sam did want to go, so they had no problem. They clicked on their seatbelts and Dean clicked open the garage. He backed out of the driveway, and he was too tired to care when Sam fiddled with the radio. He peeled out onto the road on purpose.

Might as well have _some_ fun tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Check back tomorrow for more.


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Sam and Dean walked into the bowling alley, they were met with big hugs from Charlie.

“Oh my god, it's been forever!” she said, wringing Dean tight. “What's up, bitches??”

Dean had stumbled back, but he wrapped his arms around her, too. “Yeah, uh. Good to see you too,” he said, smiling. He'd forgotten how easy it was to cheer up with her around.

“Earlier today I got to thinking, and I realized we haven't hung out once all summer. What the hell is up with that?”

“Guess we were just busy.”

Charlie made a noise. “Not me. I've been bored out of my mind.”

She let go to move on to Sam. Dean couldn't help but feel guilty for almost having turned her down. It wasn't said, but he’d missed her too.

“Did you get shorter, Sam? I think you got shorter.”

“You probably just grew.”

“Ehh. You got shorter.”

“Shut up.”

Dean grinned. The place was busy, as expected on a Friday evening. Nearly every lane was already taken, with little kids and old geezers alike. The line at the front desk was long, too. Some Michael Jackson song was blaring on the speakers, and there was a group of teens dancing to it in the arcade. Cigarette smoke poured out from the bar. It all smelled of grease and wax and Lysol, and Dean could already sense the feet fungi setting in.

“So, I might've lied about the coupons,” Charlie admitted sheepishly. “And this would usually be the part where we go pay for a lane. But we've gotta wait for one more person, so…”

Dean frowned. Her smirk was too big for that to mean any good. “One more person?”

And as if on cue, the door swung open behind them. “Sorry I'm late, I might have forgotten that gas was a thing cars needed—”

Oh. It was Cas.

Both he and Dean froze in place. They stared into each other’s eyes until blushes were formed, and that totally wasn't awkward for everyone else. Nope. Not a chance. And, oh god, was Cas really wearing the same outfit Dean leant to him the last day of their trip? Suddenly it was like no time passed at all.

“Dean.”

Then Charlie came crashing between them, nearly knocking Cas over with a hug. “You made it!” She pecked him on the cheek, and if Dean hadn't immediately thought _back off that's my job now,_ then god damn him.

Cas laughed, albeit nervously. “So it would seem…”

“I told you to wear white. Now I'll be glowing in the dark all by myself.”

“Sorry, I…” Cas took a second to shoot a glance Dean’s way. “I wanted to wear this instead.”

“I can see why,” Charlie said, letting go of him. She winked. “Looks hot on you.”

“Are you sure you're not straight?” Dean asked.

Charlie smirked at him again. “Are you?”

Dean nearly blurted a defense out of habit. But he bit his lip and narrowed his eyes at them both instead. Because of course she knew. Cas told her everything.

“...I’m lost,” Sam spoke up.

“‘Don't worry about it,’” all three of them said back.

They made their way towards the front desk. Dean tried not standing so close to Cas once they fell in line. Cas seemed to be doing the same with him. Charlie talked all their ears off, but Dean couldn't even pay attention with the idiot dressed in his clothes by his side. All he wanted was to give Cas a proper greeting, not...whatever the hell that was at the door. But now they couldn't even look each other in the eye.

Dean groaned. This was stupid. He'd never been nervous around Cas before. Why now?

Well, maybe it was because he wanted to give Cas more than a proper greeting right about now. Maybe because Charlie was right about him looking hot in that outfit. He hadn't rolled up the sleeves of the flannel this time around, but he kept one too many buttons undone and the jeans still hugged his ass tight. The front of his shirt was loosely tucked in a pointless belt, and Dean found himself needing to fix that right away.

Yeah. That was probably it.

“Whoa. Can you mentally undress him just a smidge more blatantly, please?”

Dean snapped his gaze away, anywhere but Cas. “Charlie,” he started, “I will kill you.”

“Sorry. I'm just happy you two finally worked it out.”

“Yeah whatever.”

Charlie just giggled. And Dean couldn't have missed that smug little grin that snuck its way onto Cas’ face.

“So where’ve you been all week huh?” Dean asked. “You kinda disappeared.”

And just like that, the smug little grin vanished. Cas wrung his forearm. He cleared his throat. “I know, I'm sorry. There was...a lot going on at home, between Gabe and my mother. They’re fighting again. You know, over family stuff…it's been pretty bad. Someone had to make sure they didn't tear each other in half…”

“Right, right. ‘Family stuff.’ That's what Michael told me.”

Cas nodded. The look in his eyes told Dean that wasn't the entire truth. “This is actually the first and only time my mother’s letting me out of the house, before I leave.”

“First and only?” Dean questioned, feeling offended for him.

Cas nodded again. “Yyyyup.”

“Wow. And I thought my week was bad.”

Cas sighed. “I've definitely had better.” Despite the trouble in his words, he smiled. “I was planning to take advantage and drop by your house for a surprise visit after this, if that’s any consolation. But I’m glad to see you here. Charlie neglected to inform me that she invited you as well.”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean mumbled, smiling back. “I think she did that on purpose.”

“No kidding.”

Before they could talk any further behind her back, Charlie shoved a Polaroid camera in Dean’s hands and told him to snap a picture of her and Cas. “You’re next, Sam,” she said, wrapping an arm around Cas’ shoulder. She pulled him close and they smiled widely.

Dean took the picture. “Shouldn’t this wait till we’re actually bowling?”

“Nope!” She switched over to Sam with equal enthusiasm. “We gotta get the photo ops in before the black lights come on.”

“That’s not for another hour.”

“And I’ve got film for days.” Charlie flashed two thumbs up; Sam could only follow suit. Dean snapped another picture, then it was his turn. The line moved forward before they could get situated, so Sam peered through the lense experimentally in the meantime. Charlie wasn’t going to trust Cas with her camera. He’d dropped it too many times before, apparently.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed once all three pictures came into view. She tucked them in her bag and gave the camera back to Dean. “Now we gotta do some with silly faces.”

The camera was tossed around a few more times before they reached the front of the line. They all split the money to rent a lane, and everyone paid for their own shoes. Well, everyone except Cas—he’d brought his own gear.

It wasn’t until they switched shoes and walked out to their settee that Charlie revealed she was splitting them into teams, snagging Dean for herself. And Dean? He was just fine with that. Together they’d crush those other two dorks, easy.

“You should put Cas with Dean,” Sam said, more or less disgruntled with the arrangement. “You know, to even things out.”

“You hold such high confidence in my abilities,” Cas deadpanned. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Just saying. Last time you hardly ever kept out of the gutter.”

“Maybe I’ve improved.”

“That’d be a miracle.”

“Teams don’t matter anyway,” Charlie intervened, punching their names into the console. “Whoever ends up with the lowest score is buying us all pizza and drinks. That’s what really matters.”

“Might as well get your wallet out now, huh?” Dean said, nudging Cas’ side.

Glaring, Cas removed the bowling ball from his duffel bag, and held it out between them. “Don’t make me drop this on your toes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Cas, the son of a bitch, actually dropped it. But he did so only for a second. Dean flinched anyway. “It’s within your best interest not to test me,” Cas said. He pushed his glasses up; Dean guessed that was supposed to mean he meant business. “You’re a sour sport when you lose a game,” Cas went on, turning to set the ball in the return. “I can only imagine it’s the same when you suddenly lose the ability to walk.”

“Bitch.”

“Assbutt.”

Sam had already fled to grab some bowling balls, Dean figured he’d do the same. Charlie was still entering their names by the time they returned, so she asked if someone would be kind enough to get her a couple small twelve-pounders. Cas gladly did the honors. Watching him navigate through the crowds of people and ballistic children was entertaining, to say the least. He even went around the concourse to avoid the concentrated areas. He was throwing himself back and forth and sideways to stay out of the way otherwise.

He was so nervous. It’s like he didn’t want anyone touching him, let alone go near him. That, or he was committed not to get in anyone’s way but his own. For someone who never quite seemed to grasp the idea of personal space, it was rare to see him act like this.

Dean didn’t say anything about it, though, as Cas returned to their lane. He only watched as Cas took the empty spot right next to him, as opposed to the many others he could’ve taken.

Charlie was first up to bowl. “Watch and learn,” she said, stepping up to the approach. “Watch and learn.”

She took her steps forward. She executed a smooth release, her last step following through as some sort of bow. The ball rolled down the middle, straight as an arrow. All the pins clattered and fell.

“Nice,” Dean muttered. Sam and Cas clapped.

Charlie spun around, flashing an arrogant look. “Hope you’re all taking notes.”

Sam was up next. He only knocked down three of the pins on his first bowl. But after that he managed to pick it up and turn it into a spare. Though not as verbal and showy with his celebration as Charlie, Dean knew what it looked like when Sam was giving himself a pat on the back. He returned to his seat with a pleased expression, doing his best not to let the cheers from Charlie and Cas change it too much. Offering a quick “Good job, Sammy” of his own, Dean removed his jacket and stood. It was his turn to bowl.

He tossed his jacket in Cas’ lap. “Hold onto this for me, would ya?”

Cas may or may not have mumbled something about how he wasn’t Dean’s manservant. But he tried hiding a small smile anyway. Dean pretended not to notice.

Dean figured he might as well show off a bit. Grabbing a ball, he placed his fingers and thumb in the proper position for a hook release. He stepped up to the approach. He stepped forward and swung, and when he let go the ball was headed for the back right corner of the lane. It veered ever so closely to the gutter, but at the last second it took a sharp left. Every pin might as well have fallen over twice.

Dean turned around to meet the cheers of his friends. He smirked. Piece of cake.

“I thought you were going to screw up on your first throw,” Charlie said, pleased he hadn’t.

Sam crossed his arms. “He always does that. Show-off.”

Cas hadn’t said a word. But the look on his face clearly said he had something in mind. He stood to bowl his turn, and they walked toward one another to trade off.

Handing Dean back his jacket, Cas leant in. “That followed a path about as straight as you are.”

And if that hadn’t gotten Dean to trip over himself as he stepped back down, he didn’t know what the hell could've.

Cas flashed a mischievous smirk before turning to bowl. Blushing more than he was comfortable with, Dean just clenched his jaw and returned to his seat. _That son of a bitch…_

It was no surprise Cas ended up with a big fat zero on his first score. Like the freak of nature he was, he’d always insisted that his left arm was his bowling arm. Yet each time he bowled, the ball promptly fell right into the gutter. Damn things might as well have been magnetized.

When he returned to his seat right beside Dean, he exhibited no disgruntlement in himself. In fact he looked pleased. Too pleased. That smirk still hadn’t faded, and when Dean looked closely he noticed it’d only grown. Dean had to look in the other direction; he could already think of a dozen different ways to wipe that smirk right off his face.

Sam was giving them curious looks again. Thankfully Charlie had already picked up on it, and distracted him with another photo op. Charlie snapped the picture of them herself. Sam nagged that it was her turn to bowl already, so she set the camera on the table and scurried over to the return.

“I don’t know, Cas,” she said, picking up her ball, “you’re making me nervous. I’m not so sure I can beat you.”

“Oh yes. I can sense that you're quaking utterly in fear.”

“Think you’ll uh,” she wiggled her brows, eying Dean, “score pretty big tonight?”

“Oh my god.” Dean rolled his eyes.

Cas studied Dean’s reaction, unphased. Of course. “I don’t know,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I think I’ve got to learn a few tricks from him first.”

Dean almost covered his face. But he refused to let himself go through with it. This was his game, damn it. He wasn’t going to lose it to these dweebs.

Dean returned the stare Cas was evidently determined to hold. For Sammy’s sake, he resisted the urge to sling his arm around the top of Cas’ chair and lean in close. “I’ll teach you everything you wanna know. All you gotta do is ask.”

Cas blushed, but it didn’t break him. Yet. “Nicely?”

Dean shrugged. “However you so please.”

Laughing to herself, Charlie proceeded with her turn. Sam spent his as well, but even then their gaze didn’t falter.

Dean stood to bowl. He called it a tie for now.

* * *

Awesome. Dean knew this time would come.

Cas had gone to the food court to order pizza, so Charlie told Sam to go with him. “You're part of the losing team, so you gotta help carry drinks,” she’d said. So with his head hanging low, he'd gone off to do that. Dean realized all too late why Charlie really decided to set teams up that way. Because here he and Charlie were, sitting at one of the grease-ridden tables. Face to face. Alone.

It was interrogation time.

Charlie grinned at him widely. “So??”

Dean crossed his arms. He was totally intent on making her drag every piece of information out of him. It’d drive her insane. “So what.”

“So tell me about you and Cas!”

“What about us.”

She nodded towards him in a “duh” sort of manner. “How you two finally grew some pairs and professed your undying love, for starters.”

“Oh, didn’t he already tell you?”

“Well, yeah. He did. But I wanna hear your side too. Please?”

“Alright. Just remember everything he said, but imagine it in a less...tween-girly manner.”

Charlie pouted. “Why do you have to be such a jerk?”

“I'd rather not talk about this in a place crowded with people.”

“I meant what you just said about Cas! He was really happy when he told me. He still is. He's been waiting for this for two years now, you know.”

“I know.”

“So quit acting like it's not important! I've been his personal diary this whole time. I know full well how important this is.”

Dean frowned. “Wait. You knew this whole time?”

“Of course I did! Dude never shut up about you and your pretty green eyes.”

“Really?” Dean could admit that that made him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. “What else has he said?”

“Hey, I’m the one asking questions here. And I deserve some answers already. I've been mediating your guy’s friendship long enough, for crying out loud.”

“...Fine.” Dean clenched his jaw, but unfolded his arms. “Did Cas mention that at first he lied and claimed it was you he had a crush on this whole time?”

“What?” Charlie’s eyes widened. “No.”

“Yeah, well. That's what happened. And not so much to my surprise, I was disappointed. I guess a part of me was hoping it would've been me. Once I finally admitted that to myself, I couldn't let it go. So I stayed up the entire night tryin’ to think of a way to tell him— _if_ I should even tell him.”

“The entire night?”

Dean nodded. “There was a whole other world of crap going on for me on top of that, so yeah. The entire night.”

“I suppose you aren't going to tell me about that…”

“Sorry, but no.”

Charlie sighed. “Fair enough. But there's something I don't get.”

“Yeah, what's that?”

“Well, don't tell Cas I said this, but I always thought you were kinda...hopeless, maybe? Not in a bad way, though. It's just, all the times we’ve heard you tell people, ‘I don't swing that way,’ you know? Or all the times you got mad when that asswad Alastair made fun of you two. You had me convinced. Even if it turned out you weren’t exactly straight, I didn't think you were ever going to admit that. What changed your mind all the sudden?”

“It's not all the sudden, it’s—look, that's an even longer story than the one I'm already trying to tell.”

“Then sum it up.”

Dean leant forward in his seat and crossed his arms over the table. He was very unable to make eye contact with Charlie all of the sudden. “Far as I can tell, Cas is the only guy I’ll ever feel...attracted to. We’ve been friends long enough and we’re close enough to where us both being dudes just doesn’t seem to matter anymore. So I don’t like him ‘cause he’s a guy and looks hot in glasses or whatever. I like him ‘cause he’s a dorky little nerd who loves bees and outer space and glam rock. I like him because he’s Cas.”

Finally Dean looked up. Charlie was smirking at him. “You think he looks hot in glasses.”

“Everyone looks hot in glasses, shut up.”

Charlie giggled. “So, you were disappointed he claimed to like me, and you were having trouble deciding if you should tell him about that. What happened after that?”

“Well. Lo and behold, I was the first to admit it. I guess I just thought if he’s gonna be leaving soon anyway, I didn’t have much to lose. So I told him, which then prompted the son of a bitch to _kiss_ me out of what seemed to be nowhere. I thought he did it just because I was kind of a horrible mess at the time. I thought he felt sorry for me or just wanted me to shut up or somethin’, I don't know. But then he told me he'd lied and that he felt the same way. I didn't know whether to be happy about that or not.”

“Why not?”

“Like I said. He's leaving soon.”

“So??”

“So…” _I was already terrified that our friendship was going to fade. I was already thinking that that was it for us. So I had no freaking clue what to do with the possibility that we could have more._ “Look, that part doesn't matter, alright. What matters is that eventually I did decide to be happy about it.”

Charlie propped herself on her elbows, leaning forward expectantly. She bore a ridiculously large smile.

Dean sat back. A couple was sharing a sundae two tables over. It was a man and a woman, and they were probably in their late twenties. They were laughing and smiling at something the other said. Then the man spilled some melted ice cream on his shirt, and they both laughed again. They looked happy. After watching them for a few seconds, Dean realized he was toying with a torn straw wrapper that was left by the napkin dispenser. He tossed it back onto the table.

“I want to be Cas’ boyfriend. I’m planning to ask him later tonight.”

The squeal that came out of Charlie next was inhuman. Dean nearly called out for help. He was blushing furiously though, and that stopped him from doing just about anything—except blushing even more.

“Oh my god!” Charlie exclaimed, slapping the table. “Are you serious??”

“Yeah.”

Charlie squealed again. Dean glanced around and told her to shut it so everyone could stop giving them looks.

“But I’m so happy,” she said, covering her mouth. “You have no idea how happy I am right now…”

Dean couldn’t help but smile a little. He had some sort of idea. Looked like she was about to friggin’ cry.

Charlie managed to contain herself somewhat. She grabbed Dean’s hands in her own, squeezed tight, and peered deep into his eyes. “As Cas’ gay mama, I unalterably give you my blessing.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me, his what?”

“Gay mama. You know, like ‘drag mother.’ But he wouldn’t have any of that, even though he totally let me doll him up in makeup and a dozen of my most feminine and sexy outfits that one time. He said ‘gay mama’ was fine though, since that one isn't _as_ technically false—”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

Charlie giggled, knocking their folded hands together. Dean guessed he couldn't really blame her for making a scene. It seemed she'd only been waiting for them to get together for two freaking years now.

He squeezed her hands back. “For a while, a big part of me was sayin’ it was a really bad idea. Cas is leavin’ for college soon, he's gonna be busy, he's gonna have a whole separate life without me in it. But then I thought, you know, maybe that's exactly why this needs to happen. I like him, he likes me, and I don’t want to forget how that feels. So why the hell not?

“But...I don't know. I don't want to hold him back, either. If I asked him out, I think I'd be askin’ him to put his life on hold. Just for some stupid low-life such as myself. And he deserves better. A lot better…”

“Don't say that,” Charlie whined. “There are reasons he never gave up on you, Dean. You two are perfect for each other. If anything, you'd be _helping_ him, not holding him back.”

Dean nodded, trying to understand. “Helpin’ him, huh?”

_“The food fairies are here!”_

Dean jolted. Cas skipped up to the booth, holding a large pizza box out in front of him. He was about to set it down on the table, when his eyes fell to their hands folded on the middle of it.

He narrowed his gaze. “What is the meaning of this.”

They both set their hands in their own laps. “‘Nothing.’”

Sam followed shortly after. He hurriedly set all four cups of soda down before he could drop them down. “Thanks for the help, Cas.”

“I thought you said you had it.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“C’mon Sammy,” Dean chimed in, “you know that shit goes right over his head.”

Cas made a face. “Does not. He said it in a perfectly ‘I’m fine’ manner. Didn’t you, Sam?”

Sam just rolled his eyes and slid into Charlie’s side of the booth.

“I’m sure he did,” Dean muttered for him.

“...Scoot over already,” Cas said, waving his hands.

Dean did as he was told. The booths were large enough, so he gave Cas room to spare. Even then Cas sat right by his side. Shoulder-to-shoulder, knees touching, the whole nine yards. Neither of them were going to complain.

And by the looks of it, neither was Charlie. Aside from a quick but serious “heed my warning and speak no word of our conversation” glare directed towards her, Dean pretended not to notice.

Cas grabbed the paper plates from the top of the box and started handing them out. “I know everyone’s crazy for pepperoni, but I got plain old cheese. That’s the only way pizza will ever taste like pizza to me. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Cheese is fine,” Dean said, offering a small smile when Cas handed him a plate. “Thanks.”

Cas grinned back. He reached to open the box and turned it so the lid wouldn't smack Charlie in the face. Everyone went for a slice. Since Dean was the one sitting closest to the napkins, he handed them out when asked to do so.

Cas reached for some himself, but retreated immediately. Dean frowned, watching as Cas was careful to pull the sleeve of his shirt back to his wrist quickly. He wrung his forearm again, the expression he made while doing so somewhat in pain.

Come to think of it, Cas had been doing that quite often today.

“Dude, is your arm okay?” Dean asked. “That's like the fifth time I've seen you do that.”

Cas froze, eyes wide and lips pursed. Then he slowly melted, smiling as he let go of his arm and went for his pizza slice. “It's fine. This shirt is just a little itchy there, for some reason.”

“...Huh.” Dean narrowed his eyes dubiously. That shirt was one of the most comfortable he owned. He didn't remember it ever feeling itchy. “Why don't you roll it up and check? Maybe there’s somethin’ stuck.”

Cas shook his head. “Really, it's not that much of a bother.”

Dean shrugged. He brought his pizza to his mouth. “Whatever you say, man.”

Everyone went on eating. Dean made fun of Sam for dabbing the grease off his pizza before taking a bite, to which Sam oh so nicely replied, “I'll be the one laughing when you die of a clogged artery.” Despite the morbidity of that statement, Cas and Charlie both nodded towards Sam and said he made a good point. Then everyone started dabbing their pizza. Including Dean, because he totally wasn't the type of person to refuse to admit when he was wrong.

They were all on their second slice, when Cas made a declaration, “In regards to last game’s bullshit, I call a rematch. But I say we all use our opposite bowling arms. That way we really see who knows what they’re doing. Who’s with me?”

“Sounds interesting,” Sam muttered.

“Works for me,” Charlie said.

“Sure, why not,” Dean said, nudging his shoulder, “you’re gonna lose either way.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that.” He went for their shared soda; already having finished his own, Dean let him drink from his. Looking back, Dean guessed that was probably very much on purpose. Just as it was most definitely on purpose that Cas’ hand sneakily found its way to his knee.

And Dean didn’t have a problem with that either.

* * *

“Dean! Come look at this one! It’s adorable…”

Dean walked away from the intense air hockey battle Sam and Charlie were duking out in favor of Cas’ request. He met Cas in front of one of the three glowing claw machines. Peering over his shoulder, Dean tried guessing which stuffed animal he was currently jabbing a finger at.

“Oh yeah, the uh…” Dean started, scratching his head, “the dog there. S’got big ears.”

“Not that one. The fox. The blue one.”

“Ah.” Dean nodded. Looking two stuffed animals past the dog, he spotted the fox stuck half-underneath a turtle. It had big beady eyes with irises matching the teal coloring of its fur, and a big head to match that. It wore an orangish-pink bowtie with white polka dots. A puffy tail stuck straight up from being so smushed against the back glass. And speaking of being smushed against the glass, Cas looked like he was about to friggin’ phase right through it.

“Look at it,” Cas pouted, “trapped in there like some sort of caged animal…”

What the hell. Dean already threw away half his pocket change for the air hockey and for some matching bracelets from the toy dispensers. Might as well spend the rest on this.

Dean dug through his jacket for his wallet. “How much is it, a quarter per try?”

“That is correct.”

“Then move over.”

Cas turned to look up at him. “Are you going to try getting it? You don’t have to...”

Dean shrugged. “Do you want it or not?”

Cas bit his lip a moment. Any reluctance dissipated as his eyes grew as wide as the fox’s. He clasped his hands together. “Please?”

Dean got a couple ones ready. He had to be Satan in order to refuse that request.

“No promises I’ll actually get it, though,” Dean warned, sticking a dollar in the machine. It beeped at him incessantly while its carnival lights whirred to life. “It’s kinda lodged in there.”

“Not to worry. You have my complete and utter support.”

The second bowling game had ended just as predictably as the first. As groundbreaking as Cas’ “switching arms” theory was, he still wound up in last and Dean in first. But the scores were a little closer, so Dean had to give him that. The black lights had switched on before they’d even finished their pizza. Charlie was the only one of them to cheer with everybody else in the building as the music faded from something decent and reputable to disco. Dean was secretly happy about it, though. The darker it was, the closer he could be to Cas without any nosy onlookers really noticing.

The arcade was an especially forgiving place for that. It was already dark in here whether the black lights were on or not, and everyone else had their attention drawn to some button-mashing game. And with Charlie and Sam laser focused on winning the bet they’d made over air hockey, Dean found it easy as pie to wrap an arm around Cas’ waist as he tried his hand at the claw machine.

His first couple attempts at grabbing the fox were thwarted by the turtle looming over it. Dean figured he’d have to move that out of the way first. So he spent the latter half of his first dollar doing that.

“I think you need to go down a bit further,” Cas said.

“Oh yeah?” Dean lowered his hand to Cas’ hip. “Like that?”

“I meant the claw, you moron.” Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled. “You think you’re so smooth.”

Dean smirked back. “Hey, you’re the one that said it.” He gave a little squeeze for extra measure. Cas squirmed in place because of it. It took Dean a second to remember just how ticklish the guy was. Oh man. That was so coming in handy later.

Dean removed his arm from Cas and leaned over to put another dollar in the machine. It whined at him again with that annoying tune he knew would be stuck in his head the rest of the night. Oh well. Better than disco.

Dean slung his arm around Cas again. Not missing the opportunity this time, Cas let his head fall onto his shoulder. They both watched the claw move to the back of the glass box. “Gabe says hi, by the way,” Cas mentioned. “He said that next time we meet, he wanted me to congratulate you on, and I quote, ‘at last unlocking all the love and happiness vested in the bestest little brother in the world,’ unquote.”

Dean snickered. He jimmied the claw left and right a bit before sending it down. “What an honor,” he muttered. “Tell him I said thanks.”

“Will do.”

The claw pinched around the fox’s head. When it moved to pull it up, nothing budged. It hovered towards the prize claim empty, its mechanics buzzing underneath the electric tune. “So how’d he figure it out, huh?” Dean asked, guiding the claw back in place.

“Figure what out?”

“You.”

Cas made an unpleasant noise. “I used to keep a journal. Charlie said it’d help me figure things out myself. I woke up to the sound of Gabe reading an excerpt to me one fine morning.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“I know,” Cas said, burying his face in Dean’s jacket. “I had to chase him halfway across the house to get it back.” That managed to make Dean laugh. That was totally something Gabriel would do.

Cas went on, “Gabe claims he’d already figured it out long before that, though. Since I could first dress myself up.”

“Really?”

Cas nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Sounds like it isn’t too big of a deal for him.”

“It is, and it isn’t. In a good way, I mean.” When Cas turned back to the machine, Dean caught a dismal glimmer in his eye. But it was only there for a second. “He’s cool with it, is what I mean. And he kind of goes crazy when someone else tries giving me hell over it.”

Dean hummed. Seeing as the subject was already making Cas red in the face, he didn’t want to prod too much. But then he took a wild guess and assumed Cas brought up his family for a reason. Maybe it’d help to keep talking about it. Maybe Cas needed to.

The claw machine failed them again. Dean put in another dollar.

“Does your mom know?”

Cas nodded, diffident. “Yeah. She knows.”

The glowing lights and flittering music were suddenly grossly unfitting for the grim shift in mood.

Dean held him closer, tighter. The defeat in Cas’ voice and eyes was enough crack his heart. “I mean, I know she’s always been this way, but is that why she’s been so tough on you these past couple years?”

Cas hesitated, but he nodded again.

Dean let out a lengthy sigh. He couldn’t ignore that Cas’ puppy dog eyes had turned dull and grey. He couldn’t ignore that Cas had to bite his lip to stop them from turning even more so. By the sound of it, Cas always had Charlie to talk about this stuff with. Dean could only imagine it was both relief and horror to finally talk about it with him, too. But there was something else Cas wasn’t telling either of them. Dean could tell.

But he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know what it was.

“God,” Cas spat, laughing a little. “That was your worst attempt yet. How’d you manage to get the claw that far off?”

“What? Oh…” Dean hardly even remembered trying that time. He moved the joystick to start it again, but that was it. The lights flickered off and the music stopped. His last dollar was used up. “Uh. I might have a few quarters left...”

“It’s fine. You were right, that thing is pretty lodged in there.” Cas flashed a reassuring smile. “Thanks for trying anyway.”

Dean was about to tell him that it wasn’t fine, that he could try again till he knew for sure that damn fox wasn’t going to budge. But Cas unraveled himself from Dean’s hold and ran off to the air hockey table. Sam had just scored a point. He held his arms up in celebration.

“Ha! Just one more and I win!”

“Don’t get cocky, Winchester. That’s exactly how you end up losing.”

“Oh please. You’re three points behind. I got this in the bag.”

“Cocky it is. Looks like I’m winning after all.”

Dean joined them at the table, standing on the opposite side as Cas. The puck clattered and zipped around between them. Cas’ gaze followed it intently; Dean watched only him.

“What’s the bet again?” Cas asked.

“Sorry, a little busy right now,” Charlie snapped.

“What she said,” Sam laughed.

Dean cleared his throat. He propped his elbows on the edge of the table and rested his weight on them. “I think the loser has to what, down a jumbo icee under a minute?”

“Ooh,” Cas hissed. “That is pain.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “That is pain.”

“Is that even humanly possible?

“Not a chance.”

Charlie managed to tie the score soon enough. Cas rooted for her with a smile and a laugh each time she scored. Dean gave his little brother bursts of encouragement in turn, but aside from that he couldn’t get that into the game. Even when Charlie heightened the stakes, stating that she’d down two jumbo icees in a minute if she lost, Dean found himself less enthralled than the rest. Not the frantic energy of the competitors, not the counter nearing zero, nothing got him the slightest bit wired. He was only concerned with the fact that Cas was almost jumping with joy once Charlie struck her winning shot, when just minutes ago it looked like he was about to cry.

Charlie threw her hands in the air and went for a double high-five with Cas. He met it with equal enthusiasm. Dean didn’t miss how he pulled his sleeve back down once he dropped his arms.

Sam nearly thunked his head on the table. Dean patted him on the back. “Better luck next time, Sammy.”

“I thought I was going to win…” he muttered, standing up straight.

“Looks like you’re a Losechester today,” Charlie taunted. “Now go get yourself that icee. Cas, you have a watch. You’re going to time it, right?”

“I’d be honored.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away with his head hanging low. “You all suck.”

“I’m getting my camera,” Charlie said. She strolled out of the arcade jauntingly, leaving Dean and Cas by their lonesome selves. The arcade was deserted otherwise.

Cas was still grinning, but that soon changed when he caught Dean’s stare. “Would you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like there’s something wrong with me. It’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“Sorry,” Dean said quickly. “I didn’t think I was lookin’ at you like that.”

Cas just folded his arms and glanced elsewhere. “Well you are.”

Dean sighed. He joined Cas on the other side of the table, bumping their shoulders together. “I didn’t mean to either, alright? There’s nothin’ wrong with you.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t need to tell me that. I already know.”

“Do you?” Dean questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m pretty sure I was just checkin’ you out. You got the whole ‘something’s wrong with me’ thing on your own.”

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know full well what you look like when you’re checking someone out. And that definitely wasn’t it.”

Crap. Dude got him there. Tapping his fingers over the table, Dean took a moment to think over his next response carefully. Cas wasn’t exactly all that thrilled anymore. “Alright fine. You got me there. But everything else I said is true. You can’t tell me I lied about that. I’m just...I’m worried about you, okay? One second you were ogling a stuffed animal, the next you’re nearly brought to tears at the mention of your mom. Just tell me everything’s good with her and I won’t have to worry anymore.”

Cas fidgeted in place. He started tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, and as soon as he realized Dean took note of that, he stopped. He clung to the bottom of the shirt instead. “As much as I came here to hang out with Charlie and subsequently you and Sam, I came here to get away from my mother too. She’s...she's driving me insane, okay? Even if it’s just for a couple hours, I really needed this. I needed to get away from her already…”

“Hey.” Dean grabbed his hand and led him away from the opening to the arcade. He only stopped once they reached an empty corner, safe from the sight of others.

Before Dean could do it himself, Cas led them into a tight hug.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not talk about it any further,” Cas mumbled into his chest. “Not for the time being, at least.”

“And you don’t have to. Forget what I said, Cas, you really don’t have to.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’ mention it.”

Maybe she found out about their camping trip. Maybe that's why she kept him locked up all week. Maybe that's why she and Gabriel were supposedly fighting, since he was the one who let it all happen. Dean kept quiet about his assumptions though, and just focused on holding Cas back. Dean rubbed his sides and kissed his hair. Another ungodly disco song blared over the speakers. A group of friends laughed as they passed by the other side of the wall. This was hardly the place for them to do this. This was a scab he probably shouldn’t have picked until later. Dean cursed at himself internally for not having realized that sooner.

Sam and Charlie were going to come looking for them any minute now. Dean needed to think of something to cheer him up fast.

“You wanna go on a date after this?”

Cas froze. Then he backed away, looking up at Dean with narrowed eyes. “Why, because you feel sorry for me?”

“Of course not,” Dean said, trying to assure him. It wasn't working. “Look, I was gonna ask you anyway.”

“Right.”

“I was! I've been dyin’ to ask you all week.” Dean smiled, hoping it'd make Cas do the same. It didn't. “Ah c’mon, Cas. I was even gonna let you pick where we go.”

“Sure you were.”

“Just ask Charlie if you don't believe me. I told her all about my secret plans while you were away ordering pizza.”

“Oh, did you now?”

Dean nodded. “Cross my heart.”

Cas just blinked.

Dean wasn't giving up that easy. He pulled Cas close again, close enough to feel his breath. He tilted Cas’ chin up, and he refused to speak until their eyes met. “Think you’d believe me if I kissed you?”

“No.”

“Really? You aren't even gonna give it a shot?”

Cas shook his head, petulant. “Mm-mm.”

Despite their proximity, Dean could see that smile inch its way onto Cas’ face. It was working. “Aw. That's a shame,” he uttered slowly, not even trying to hide his victory over the situation. Slowly, he tilted his head forward. “A real, gosh darn downright shame…”

Finally, Cas laughed. Dean swore it was the best sound he’d heard all week.

Dean let himself be pinned against the wall as they kissed. He let Cas kiss him as long as he so chose. He was going to let Cas choose where they went. He was going to let Cas choose whether they started a relationship or not.

He was going to let Cas choose everything.


	3. Chapter 3

“Uh. You sure this is the right way?”

“I’ve been there a dozen times, Dean. So yes, I’m fairly certain.”

“I thought you said we were goin’ to a bakery.”

“We are.”

Dean narrowed his eyes as he drove higher up the side of a wooded hill. He pressed down on the brakes, Baby’s dim headlights and a bit of moonlight all there was to illuminate the narrow stretch of road ahead. It was definitely dark enough for this little adventure out of town to feel borderline eerie. Any bakery out here must’ve been owned by some old witch taking lost children to stuff her pies.

“Turn right here,” Cas said, pointing so.

Leery as he was, Dean did as he was told. The road became somewhat twisted, but at least it was still paved. There was one good sign.

“Dude, if you’re really leading us out to the middle of nowhere just so we can mess around or somethin’, I swear…” Dean began, but then he shrugged. “Actually, I wouldn’t even be mad.”

“Oh please,” Cas scoffed, “this is our first date. Have some class.”

Dean just laughed. _Our first date._ He liked the sound of that. 

After a few more minutes of driving, they passed a wooden sign huddled in the bushes, lit with three small spotlights. _Outlook Valley Inn_ , it read. _Bed & Breakfast. _And if the building that came into view as they rounded the corner was it, well then that was just about the largest and fanciest bed and breakfast Dean had ever seen.

Heading towards the building was almost maze-like, with tall, upkept hedges directing the path. Lampposts with hanging flower baskets marked the end, and suddenly they were no longer in the middle of nowhere. The trees opened up to a gravelled parking area, lined with flowerbeds and more lampposts. Dean took an empty spot that faced out from the hill. Treetops peeked over the ledge, but other than that their view of the sky from here was unobstructed.

Dean shut off the engine and stepped out. The inn was built into the side of the hill, held up by wooden scaffolding where the ledge dropped off. It was four stories tall, with an overall shape of a giant backwards “L.” Despite its size, it looked more or less like a cottage, given its quaint and homey appeal. The wooden panelling was painted a light peach color with white trim.

He and Cas started walking. Crickets chirped and the gravel crunched beneath their feet. All else was peacefully silent. Dean caught the way the moon shone in Cas’ eyes. He reached for his hand.

“Not gonna lie,” Dean said, “I’m still a bit lost on the whole ‘bakery’ thing.”

“Well, yes, mainly this is a bed and breakfast,” Cas explained, “but it also has a cafe. I always get lots of different pastries whenever I come here, so I guess that’s why I’ve always thought of it as a bakery. There’s also a candy shop. It’s all part of the same building. You’ll see when we get in.”

Dean nodded. He was mildly surprised he’d never heard of this place before. After living in the same damn town all of his young life, he figured he would’ve heard mentionings of it here and there. Yeah, maybe he’d seen it from a distance, but he assumed it was some millionaire’s summer home, or something. Hell, it looked decent enough. Very decent, in fact. But as they made their way into the courtyard, it only started to make sense. This was definitely a place only talked of by the rich folk in town. The freaking _fountain_ smack in the middle of a lush flowerbed made that clear enough.

Instead of stopping at the front entrance, Cas led Dean down a stone pathway that pointed towards a small door. Warm, orange light poured from the window adjacent. _Hillside Sweets,_ a hanging sign read. _Confectionery & Cafe. _

They stepped up to the porch. “Gabe takes me here all the time.” Cas said, smiling at the thought. “Well, he _used_ to. Now he just makes his own trips. Selfish jerk.”

A bell rang as Dean held the door open for them both. They stepped inside, and instantly he was hit with the smell of coffee and bread and everything sweet under the sun. Display cases filled with all sorts of pastries spanned the entire south and east walls. A black chalkboard full of beverage prices hung above the front counter. Three archways to the left opened up to the candy store Cas had mentioned. Aside from the company of some female 20s singer playing from an old phonograph, they were alone.

Cas let go of his hand to check out a basket of loose leaf teas. Dean was more interested in the pies oh so lusciously displayed in a rotating case, but he kept quiet about it. Instead, he snuck a kiss onto Cas’ temple and said, “Pick out whatever you want, alright?”

Cas hummed in response. They started moving through the cafe together, looking over the pastries one by one. Occasionally Cas would point to something and say, “Those are good,” or, “Those are _very_ good.” Once a cashier emerged from the kitchen, they waltzed up to the front counter and decided on drinks. Cas settled on ordering a large cinnamon roll for them to split. Hot drinks in hand, they sat at one of the wicker tables underneath a scenic painting and waited for it to be brought out.

Resting on an elbow, Cas smiled up at the painting. His eyes were big blue oceans of fascination. “I can’t believe we’re on a date,” he said, blissful. Then he straightened up, glancing down at his cup of tea as a blush started to form. “Oh God. Did I say that out loud?”

Dean had to look down at his coffee too. Because that was just too adorable. “Say what out loud?” he asked.

Cas gave him a look over the frames of his glasses. He played along anyway. “Oh, nevermind then. Forget I said anything.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

“Which was nothing.”

“Right. Absolutely nothin’.”

Cas grinned, lifting his cup to his mouth. He took a small sip to test the temperature, then almost immediately set it back down for the time being. Dean made fun of him for even trying. Cas told him to zip it.

Laughing, Dean fiddled with his own cup. No way he was even going to try drinking yet. He could already tell his coffee was way too hot. Instead he glanced around, noting that the cashier had already disappeared into the kitchen again. “This place ain’t so busy, huh?” he said.

Cas shook his head. “It is a bit late in the day, and they are closing this area soon. I predicted that it would be quite empty.”

“I see. That why you picked it?”

Cas grinned again, a bit less shy this time. “Maybe. I like being alone with you.”

Dean couldn’t have agreed more. His eyes fell down to Cas’ hand resting on the table. He wanted to take it in his own. Just as he decided to go for it, a bell rang and the door creaked shut. More people shuffled into the cafe.

Dean kept his hands folded around his coffee. Their cinnamon roll was brought out soon anyway.

Cas dug in right away. Dean couldn’t blame him once he took a bite for himself. It was heated warm and fresh, the icing on top buttery and melted to perfection. The spongy bread wasn’t a hassle to split with a fork. Dean had to get thirsty from taking many bites before he could remember he still had coffee.

“I'm really happy we got to see each other again, before I take off,” Cas said. “I was really hoping we'd get some more time together.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I'm sorry if it seemed like I’d been ignoring you all week. I knew you were calling, but Michael never let me answer the phone. My mother made sure of that.”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I figured you were just busy. Though I am curious about what's been goin’ on for you. Michael said there’d been a lot of so-called ‘family emergencies.’ Care to explain what that meant exactly?”

The smile lingering on Cas’ face faded. “He was exaggerating.”

“Yeah?”

Cas nodded. “Everything at home has been exceptionally uneventful. My mother didn't want me going anywhere or making any outside contact because she wanted me focused on college. Packing for it, preparing for it, as if that isn't what I've been doing all month anyway. Any time someone leaves the house for long periods of time is an ‘emergency’ in her eyes.”

“That's a bit overkill.”

“Oh, don't I know it,” Cas sighed. “Finally I think even she realized that. So she let me out this once, thank God. I was about ready to jump out my bedroom window.”

That couldn't have ended well. “Dude. You're on the fourth floor.”

“Yeah, well. Spending five consecutive days locked in that house _does things_ to a person.”

“What'd you even do all that time?”

“Other than pack? Lie in bed and stare at the wall, mostly. Goose kept me company the whole time. I even started talking to her as if she was human.”

“You takin’ her with you to college?”

Cas pouted. “I wish. But the only pets allowed in the dorms are service dogs, which is rudely unfair in my opinion. Not everyone is a dog person. I say we make a change and have service _cats_ be a thing.”

Dean laughed. “Right. Because cats are so selfless and loving towards their owners.”

“They can be! Mine is, at least,” Cas defended. “Anyway. Gabe promised to take good care of her for me. I sincerely hope he intends to keep that promise.”

“I could check every now and then.”

Cas gave him a grateful look. “Would you mind terribly?”

They were nearly done with the cinnamon roll, when their conversation shifted to their bowling games. “I should’ve made an effort to hang out with Charlie more this summer,” Cas said at one point. “She shouldn’t have been that upset to say goodbye…”

“You’re her bestie, Cas,” Dean replied, clearing his throat. “Of course she was goin’ to get a little choked up.”

“I know, but...still. This is Charlie we’re talking about. She never gets _that_ upset.”

“Well she’s human too, just like the rest of us. ‘Sides, all it means is that she’s gonna miss you like crazy. And yeah, that part sucks, but it’s also a good thing. It means she cares about you.”

Dean would know, anyway. Cas was sitting right in front of him, and he was already feeling it.

Dean asked about school. About his program of study, why and what Cas wanted to do with it. He already knew why, but he never got tired of Cas’ answer. The main “why” stayed the same while the details around it changed, as if remembering a new part of his reasoning for the first time. This time around Cas said he wanted to study physics because it meant learning how the world worked on a most fundamental level. And he wanted a specialty in astronomy because the stars were beautiful and he'd never get tired of looking at or thinking about them and he already knew enough about them to make that the easiest part of his degree. Because the universe was grand and beautiful and a fleeting mystery to scientists everywhere, and Cas wanted to be a part of a team that helped solve it. Though he doubted the universe could be completely solved, it still gave him a rush to think of standing before all of Mother Nature and the sky beyond and say, “One day, I will know you entirely. And when I do, you'll be impossibly more beautiful than before.” Physics was the science of change, the science that was applied throughout all locations in space and time—or excuse him, “spacetime,” because apparently those were two sides of the same coin and goddamn it, if Cas let any more of his nerd show at _this_ point in spacetime then Dean was going to have problems here real friggin’ soon.

“There is one thing, though,” Cas went on, peering at Dean with marveling eyes and an unwavering smile, “There’s one thing that I love more than the universe itself.”

“Yeah, what's that?”

“ _You_.”

Yup. Problems were definitely being had.

First of all, _cheesy_. And secondly, that was the kind of confession people saved for their honeymoon. Cas pushed it forward just like that, and without a single hesitation. Usually that'd be one of the many red flags that could go off on a first date. But this was different. Cas was different. They were different. Suddenly it was impossible for Dean to understand how he'd never been so enamored of him before.

Still, that was a sentiment Dean couldn't return just yet. Don't get him wrong, he loved Cas too. He loved him a lot. But saying that sort of thing out loud...

It scared him.

Instead he reached for Cas’ hand, no longer caring for the other people in the room, at least. They gazed into each other’s eyes for seconds that stretched out like minutes. Dean smiled.

He wished he could be that fearless.

* * *

Dean thought the main lobby of the bed and breakfast was more suited for an old fashioned and fancy hotel. The first thing he’d realized walking in was how high the ceiling reached. The room was large enough for eight lantern chandeliers to hang down, including two larger ones in the middle. A front desk was placed directly under, with a wall exhibiting the establishment’s name just behind. At the back was a stove fireplace with sofas and armchairs huddled around. Before Dean could suggest they sit there a while, Cas grabbed his wrist and said, “Here, follow me. I want to show you something.”

Each side of the lobby had a flight of stairs that went up and wrapped around the south wall; Cas led them up the one to the right. Up here the balcony overlooking the lobby extended back beyond a pair of double doors. Large, paneled windows opened up to the black of night.

“It’s not much of a valley,” Cas said, opening one of the doors, “but the view is pleasant.”

Given the time, Dean wasn’t so sure they’d see much of anything. But the moonlight was enough to illuminate the treetops that stretched all the way back to town. Down there the lights of the streets and houses glowed, and the stars overhead did the same.

Cas let go of him to lean against the railing. The light reflected in his glasses faintly, but it wasn’t quite enough to reach his eyes. Dean found himself looking for that more than he did to admire the view.

“It’s...difficult, to think I’ve spent my whole life down there,” Cas said. “Well, my life so far, anyway.”

Dean folded his arms on the railing too. “Difficult how?”

Cas shrugged. “Gabe takes me out flying here and there, but I’ve never actually stayed someplace else. We’ve been stuck in the same old town this whole time. We aren’t even that far away and it already looks small. And the world is so much bigger, you know? I want to see what else is out there for myself. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling. “That’d be nice.” _That’d be really nice, actually._

Cas smiled back, but it soon faded. “I’m afraid it won’t ever happen. After college, I'm done for. No one in my family ever gets away from home.”

Dean almost wanted to smack him. The thought of Cas leaving ached, but it hurt even more to think he felt trapped. If he was scared he was stuck, then really it was his own self getting in the way.

Because if anyone could make it away from that damn family, it was him. No doubt about that.

“Tomorrow’s your first step out, Cas. You can stay wherever the hell you want after that. You can see as much of the world as you want.”

At that, Cas buried himself in Dean’s arms. Together they breathed with the wind and watched the lights flicker down below. Here, they stood on top of the town.

They stood like that for a long while.

“I want to see it with you.”

Dean bit his lip. He held Cas tight.

“I want that, too.”

They kissed each other slow. The slightest hint of Dean’s name escaped Cas’ lips, and Dean didn’t pull away till he heard it again. They watched the stars. They talked about going on a road trip next summer. They talked about everything, and they whispered about nothing. Cas kept himself pressed against Dean’s chest. Dean kept him out of the cool night air.

Only when Cas remembered to check his watch did they move out of place.

“Oh crap,” he muttered, “it’s almost nine. Would you mind if we pillaged the candy store real quick? A few things caught my eye earlier, and I wanted to grab them before they closed.”

“Yeah we can do that,” Dean laughed.

“Then we better hurry.” After untangling their arms, Cas started walking away. “It's only a few minutes before—”

“ _Wait_.”

Dean was quick to grab his wrist and stop him in his tracks. His stomach dropped. He needed to do this now, before he lost the courage entirely.

“What is it? Dean, are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah, I just…” Oh god. He couldn't have been more thankful for the dark. And he decided to ignore the light bleeding out of the windows betraying that. Because he was blushing so much right now, and that was so totally lame. “Can I ask you somethin’, Cas?”

Cas squared their shoulders. Stepping closer, he looked up with wide eyes and nodded. “Anything.”

Dean linked their fingers together. He wanted to kick his own ass for how much time he’d wasted not holding Cas’ hand.

“Can I be yours?”

Cas may as well have frozen in time. “Dean…” he managed. “What are you...what do you mean?”

“Starting a long distance relationship would usually be one of my worst ideas, seeing as I can hardly hold a regular one. But I think it’d be different, with you. I know it would. Because you’re different. We’re different—” Dean shut his eyes; he was rambling. Opening them back up, his gaze fell to their folded hands. “Look, you're the greatest friend I've ever had, Cas. And it took me way too long to accept it, but I really like you. I think we make a pretty good team. I really think we could make somethin’ work, even though you're leaving. But I don't want you to feel like we have to do this. I want you to be happy. So it's your choice.

“So what do you say, Cas? Will you go steady with me?”

If anything, Cas only froze even more. The squint to his eyes, the clench in his jaw and the tremble in his lips would’ve started to worry Dean. But then he hardly had the time to even brace himself, as Cas nearly knocked him over with a kiss.

All at once it was happiness and hunger and relief. Hands roamed until they settled on each other’s waist, and feet stumbled until Dean was pressed up against the railing again. Cas kissed him, and he kissed him voraciously. It wasn't until he stepped back breathless with a huge grin plastered on his face that he gave an official answer.

“ _Of course._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Okay, look. I know Sioux Falls is nowhere near a valley, or has hills surrounding the city limits. Or at least that's what the pictures on Google tell me. But let's just pretend, alright?)


	4. Chapter 4

“Where should we go?”

“Mmm...you know, I've always wanted to see the beach.”

“Yeah? Which coast, east or west?”

“Psh. I don't know. And we're kind of smack in the middle, aren't we?”

“We are.”

“Then...west, perhaps? They have Disneyland.”

“But the east has Disneyworld _._ ”

“That I'm well aware of, thank you. But Disneyworld would be a pretty big deal for our first road trip. We should work our way up to that one.”

Dean laughed as he pressed a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek—his _boyfriend’s._ God, that was a term he'd need to get used to. He would've kissed him on the lips, but the son of a bitch would not stop shoving chocolate in his mouth. Dean was about ready to call 911 in the case that Cas went into a sugar coma.

Cas reached into his bag of candies again. “Want another one?” he asked, offering a piece.

“Yeah, gimme,” Dean said, reaching out to take it. He popped it in his mouth, discovering that it was a pretzel and peanut butter combination this time. “The less you have, the better. I think Gabriel’s sweet tooth is rubbing off on you a bit too much.”

“Nonsense. We as human beings are biologically programmed to love sugar. It's only natural.”

“Then how come I’m about ready to hurl after only having five pieces, huh?”

“Because you're a freak of nature. And make a run to the bathroom if you're about to throw up. I'd rather not go home coated in your stomach acid.”

Dean sat up from the wall and scooted off his bed. “I think I'll just head downstairs and grab a drink. Stuff’s making me friggin’ thirsty,” he said. He went for the door, but before making it out of his bedroom completely, he asked, “Want anything?”

“A glass of milk would be great.”

“You got it.”

“Thank you.”

“Uh huh.”

Once Dean reached the bottom of the stairs, he found Sam lying on the couch in the living room, with the same book he'd been mulling over earlier. They seemed to ignore each other as Dean slipped into the kitchen to pour the drinks. But of course he had no such luck when he made his way back towards the stairs.

“What are you guys doing up there?” Sam asked, stopping him in his tracks.

“Just hangin’ out,” _and feeding each other chocolates like a couple of...well, like a couple. “_ Why?”

“Usually you two ‘just hang out’ down here or in the basement. That's all.”

Though Sam hadn't even looked away from his book, Dean rolled his eyes. He started back up the stairs. “Do what you will with your air quotes, Sammy.”

“Already am.”

“Okay.”

Damn it. Sam was smart enough to eventually figure it out on his own. But Charlie better not’ve told him anything. Dean made mental note to call her later and make sure.

With both hands full, Dean nudged his bedroom door open with his foot. “We’ve got a situation, Cas. Sammy’s onto us—”

He couldn't have missed the way Cas hurriedly buttoned his sleeve back up.

“What?” Cas said, throwing his hands in his lap.

Dean frowned. He backed up against the door to shut it. He approached the bed carefully, and set a glass of milk on his nightstand. He handed the other to Cas. “You uh, you finally figure out what’s been itching your arm?”

“What? Oh, yeah…”

Sitting down beside him again, Dean hid any suspicion and looked him in the eye. “What was it?”

Cas looked away. “It was a pine needle. From our camping trip.”

“Oh. Wow. Sucker must’ve been hangin’ in there tight.”

“No kidding, right? That was days ago…” Cas lifted up the glass. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Yeah, don’ mention it.”

Dean watched him carefully; something was wrong. Cas couldn't stand making eye contact when he lied, and that was definitely an aversion to it. Cas brought up their plans for a road trip again, but Dean could tell it was out of mild panic instead of genuine excitement like before. Dean asked more questions as hollow as they were being answered. Cas didn't seem to notice.

That, or he was pretending not to.

Neither of them could ignore it when things grew too silent for too long, though. Cas set his empty glass on the windowsill. He tied the bag of candies closed and tossed it further down the bed. He curled up against Dean’s side, wrapping his arms and a leg around him. He pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder before resting his head against it. 

Dean grabbed his hand. “You wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“No.”

“See, now that I could tell wasn’t a lie.” He kissed the top of Cas’ head. “But that kinda makes me think that whatever it is, it’s even worse.”

Cas let out a lengthy sigh. Without looking up, he lifted his arm hesitantly. The one he’d been fiddling with all night.

Dean took it carefully. Before unbuttoning the sleeve, he asked, “Can I..?”

“Just do it.”

“I don’t want to unless you’re fine with—”

“Dean. Please _._ ”

Cas wasn’t complying; he was insisting _._ A little taken back by that, Dean bit his lip. He held his breath as he unbuttoned Cas’ sleeve.

His stomach dropped. Already there were large red marks stretched across his skin. They only got worse as Dean gingerly pulled the sleeve farther up.

The welts ran all the way up to his elbow, and by the looks of it, went beyond that too. They at least stayed on one side of Cas’ arm near the wrist, but the farther up, the less skin there was left unharmed. There were even band aids here and there, but they hadn't done their job. Dried blood had seeped out underneath. Dean grit his teeth.

“Jesus, Cas…”

The hand still holding Dean’s waist clenched. He ignored the pain of nails digging into him. Though he had a pretty solid idea, he cleared his throat and asked. “How the hell did this happen?”

It was taking Cas minutes to form any sort of reply. Dean, rubbing his back, wasn’t going to press him.

“It’s really not that bad,” Cas said at last, the tremor in his voice betraying that very statement. “She’s done worse before.”

Goddamnit. _His mom._ Dean knew it was her.

He let his head fall back. “Before? This ain't the first time?”

“Hardly.” With the inflicted arm, Cas reached for a hand. “I’m sorry I never told you. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to at the same time—I couldn’t—”

“Hey,” Dean whispered, “don’t worry about it, alright? It's fine, I get that.” With his free hand, Dean ghosted his fingers up the rest of Cas’ arm. “How far do they go?”

“Up to my shoulder blade, down to my hip.” _Christ._ Immediately Dean held him looser on that side. But his grip tightened around his hand. “She always kept it entirely on my torso before, though. Usually around my ribcage, where it's easy to hide. But I guess I really pissed her off this time.”

“How many times has she done this?”

Cas laughed, but it was short and sharp. He shook his head, teeth grit and chin quivering. He shrugged. “Remember all those times I had to skip diving practice? All those times I said, ‘Yeah, I can hang out with you this weekend,’ and then didn’t? I lost track a long time ago so I don't know, but it was that many times and more.” Wiping his eyes, Cas folded in on himself and took up the least amount of space possible. Everything about him was small. “She's done worse than Luke—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that. Please. It’s not your fault Dean, if anything it’s mine, I’m the one who lied to her about our trip, I knew she’d get this mad if she found out, I’m the one that can’t—”

“Cas, it’s not your fault either. As far as I’ve ever been able to tell, your mom’s just an _evil bitch_.”

Cas wasn’t going to argue that one. He only removed his glasses and threw them to their feet. Dean didn’t miss that they were wet. “No matter what she’s trying to convince you,” Dean went on, “don't you dare pin this on yourself.”

“She knows about our camping trip. She figured it out in two minutes.”

“Then why does it look like this was done today?”

“Because she’s still mad about it.”

Dean shut his eyes. If he’d known this was going on, he would’ve at least tried getting Cas home on time. If they’d gotten back to Balthazar’s at noon like they were supposed to, maybe his mother would’ve been less suspicious. No—fuck that. He wouldn’t have even taken him home. He would’ve invited Cas to stay at his own house and not let his mom near at all. But Dean didn’t say a word about that. Last thing Cas needed was to fault himself even more for never telling him.

“Have you at least told someone else about this?”

“My whole family knows she does this. Gabe’s the only one who ever does something about it. Anna and Samandriel try, if they happen to be close enough to hear. But then they just get hurt too, and I can’t—I can't ever do anything about it.”

“How long has this been goin’ on?”

Cas’ breath hitched. He gasped, and if that hadn’t sounded like he was being strangled, Dean still would’ve teared up anyway. If Cas hadn’t snapped yet, then this was it.

“Ever since she found out that I’m _gay_ , alright? That I’m not what she wanted me to be. That I’m not some perfect little son. She thinks I’m just being stubborn, as if this was actually a choice. She treats me like I’m sick, like I’ve got some sort of _disease_ that can be miraculously cured with pills and therapy and every type of abuse that she excuses as ‘correction’ under the sun. But this was never a choice, and it’s certainly not a sickness. I’ve tried to make her see that...I've tried so hard. But she’ll never understand. To her, I’m just some mistake, some ugly mark on our family’s name, some...some _abomination_ just waiting for the day I die to be sent to Hell!”

“Alright, c’mere.” Dean tilted Cas’ chin up, if only to wipe some of those tears away. Even if it was pointless, as more and more took their place. “Just keep lettin’ it out. I’m here, Cas. I’m here.”

Cas waited till his breathing was somewhat under control to speak again. “I know you don’t want me to leave tomorrow, Dean. But...honestly,” he started, already sounding shaky again, “I can’t wait any _fucking_ _longer_ to get away.”

Cas broke out in shattered breaths again; Dean brought him close. He didn’t know how much longer they sat like that. All he knew was that he was never going to make Cas feel like they couldn’t talk about this stuff again.

Cas asked if there were any better band aids he could use. Dean led him across the hall to the bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet there. Once he found some, he offered to help patch him up or let Cas do it himself.

“You can do it,” Cas said, voice hoarse.

“You sure?” Dean asked. He didn’t think Cas would want anyone touching him.

“Please, Dean. I trust you. I need you to.” Rubbing his eyes, he hopped onto the counter. “God knows I’ve done it enough myself…”

“Yeah,” Dean managed, nodding slightly. “Yeah, okay.”

“Just lock the door first.”

“Right.”

Dean turned to do that, and Cas started unbuttoning the front of his shirt. “There are a few cuts on my side and back, too,” he explained. “This isn’t the first time she’s let the belt do that…”

Dean saw proof of that once Cas shrugged the shirt off his shoulders. Tiny, faint scars he’d been too ignorant to notice before marked his bare skin. But that was hardly the worst of it. Just about Cas’ entire left side was covered in bruises and marks. They came in every color they could, some overlapping others to show that this had been a punishment dished daily. Dean wanted to cry over how defeated and torn Cas looked.

Instead he gave him a kiss, cautious and soft. “You’re the strongest damn person I know,” he whispered against his lips. “I really wish you didn’t have to be.”

Cas didn’t say anything back. He only aimed his eyes at a far away place and waited for Dean to start.

Dean removed each band aid with his breath held. He washed off any blood with a rag soaked in warm water. None of the cuts were too big or too deep, so he held off on any sterilizers. Dean waited for each spot to dry before moving on. He even blew cool air onto a few. He only applied as much pressure as needed when putting on the new band aids. Cas wasn’t fragile. Cas wasn’t weak. But Dean would be damned if he wasn’t afraid he hurt him with every point of contact.

Once he was done, he tossed the wrappings in the trash and the rag in the sink. “There ain’t a single thing wrong with you,” he said, helping button his shirt back up. “You aren’t diseased. You aren’t going to Hell. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’ mention it,” Dean said, attempting a smile.

Cas didn’t return it. “I’m serious.” Before Dean could step away, he was pulled into an embrace. “Just… _thank you._ ”

Tentative, Dean hugged him back, careful not to push on his left side. He pressed a kiss behind his ear. “Of course...”

The bathroom light buzzed quietly overhead. Cas’ breath skimmed down Dean’s neck and back. Dean was faced with himself in the mirror. He shut his eyes. He knew Cas didn’t do anything to deserve such _crap._

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Shh... Don't be."

"I'm sorry. I really wasn't expecting you to ask to start a relationship tonight. I was too happy to say no. But I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to take that back. I'd...I'd understand."

"Hey, hey."

Cas loosened his hold, and Dean stepped back. The redness in Cas’ eyes had gone down. He didn’t look sad anymore. Tired maybe, but not sad. He lifted a hand, placing his palm over the side of Dean’s face. The touch was warm and tender, and Dean leant into it without hesitation. Cas held his gaze as he had so many times before. They breathed slow. It wasn’t until Cas’ thumb wandered to Dean’s lower lip that they collided back together.

Their mouths met in the middle. Their noses brushed and switched sides. Dean brought his hands up to Cas’ hair and chest, where it wouldn’t hurt to hold him a bit tighter. Cas hummed into his mouth, opening his own wider as if to invite Dean farther. Dean wasn’t about to turn him down. Letting out a small hum himself, Dean pressed against his lips with a bit more force than before. By no means were they kissing each other fast, but they definitely weren’t slowing down either.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas mumbled into his mouth, “so much…” His hands fell to Dean’s waist, tugging him closer. As soon as their hips met, Cas wrapped his legs around and trapped him there. Dean wasn’t going to fight it. Cas deserved to be loved back. Cas deserved to feel something _good._

Dean dropped his mouth to Cas’ neck. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d already accomplished his mission when Cas downright moaned, but this was far from over. Dean licked a stretch of skin down to his shoulder and back up, only ever stopping to bite or suck. All the while Dean rocked into his hips, making Cas tighten his legs even more. Cas was groaning and digging his nails into Dean’s back by the end of it, so Dean decided that that was enough. He gave one last rock of the hips for good measure, then lifted his head.

Dean smirked. “There,” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth.

Cas took in a few breaths before replying. “There what?” he asked.

“I gave you a hickey,” Dean admitted easily enough, “and it may or may not be very large and very visible.”

Cas twisted to check it out in the mirror for himself. He shot Dean a chiding look. “You gave me a hickey.”

“ 'Course I did. What else did you think I was doin'?” Dean pecked him on the nose. “‘Sides, you’ll need some way to ward off all those hungry, horny frat boys. This way they’ll know you’re already taken.”

Cas' gaze softened. He leaned forward, and, resting his head against Dean's chest, let out a heavy sigh.

And Dean held him there. 

"We're going to make this better. _Together_. Okay?"

Cas didn't say anything back, but he nodded.

"Okay."

Eventually, Cas checked back in the mirror again. He was still more or less surprised. “You really did give me a huge hickey. Oh my god.”

“I can make it huger.”

Turning to face him again, Cas let out a resigned sigh. “Might as well. The damage is already done,” he said, nonchalant. He retightened his legs and pulled him close. “Lay it on me, Dean. Give me your worst.”

Dean smirked. “You asked for it.”

The next few minutes were filled with various wet mouth noises and moans. They were only interrupted with the beeping of Cas’ watch, and even then they kept at it.

The watch beeped all for ten more seconds, when Cas turned it off. “Dean, it’s ten-thirty. I have to go. Dean…”

“Ten-thirty?” Dean hardly even lifted his mouth from Cas’ throat. “It barely takes fifteen minutes to get to your house from mine. Not half an hour.”

“I know, I know. But I’d rather not take my chances this time, so—ohhh. Okay. Or we can keep doing this. Yeah, let’s...let’s keep doing this. Hmm…”

Dean revelled in his victory all for another minute or so. Then he settled his head on Cas’ shoulder, and he held him tight. He really didn’t want Cas to go back home.

“Dean...”

“Do you have to?”

No answer.

“You could just...stay here for the night. Grab your bags in the morning. I just hate the idea of you having to go back to that.”

”I’ll...I’ll be okay.” Cas picked up his head and held it in front of his own. He rubbed a thumb against Dean’s cheek, smiling to convince him. “Gabe’s home. He keeps her from bothering me.”

Dean lifted a brow. “Does he?”

Cas threw him a look at that, clearly not in the mood to argue over it. “He was away a lot this week, okay? But he’s here now. Dean, believe me when I say it’s better that I go home tonight. Please.”

Dean sighed. He didn’t like it, he wasn’t going to stand for it forever, but for Cas’ sake and for now he believed it.

“Alright fine,” he whined, backing up. “Get out of here.”

Cas eyed him curiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Oh no, not at all. Trust me. You just gotta leave. You know, overbearing parent and all that. Even though you’re an adult now, and can make your own damn decisions about curfews and bedtime and who you date—”

“Alright, alright I get it,” Cas said, smiling anyway. He dropped his legs. “Now back off.”

Before heading down the stairs, they revisited Dean’s room to pick up Cas’ glasses and candy. Then Dean walked him out to his car. “You good driving yourself home?” he asked. “I could, if you wanted me to.”

Cas shook his head. “No, it’s okay. If anyone sees you in the car with me I’m practically toast. So it’s probably best that I try and hide any evidence I spent some time with you tonight. Speaking of…” He fiddled with the collar of his coat, and wrapped the scarf around once more in attempt to cover up the hickies on his neck. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

Dean smiled a small smile, patting the collar in place for him. “Of course.”

Neither of them said anything while Cas fumbled with his keys and unlocked the driver’s side door. He threw his keys in the seat, along with the candy. He hesitated a moment, but he trapped Dean in one last hug. He wound his arms tight. “I’m going to miss you.”

Dean hugged him back. “I’m gonna miss you too…”

 _Have the best time at college for me, would ya? You’re gonna do great. You should be proud of yourself. You should stay. Let me take care of you. If your mom ever hurts you again I’m going to make her life hell. Don’t ever let her hurt you again. You deserve better. You deserve freedom. Don’t leave me. God, please don’t leave me. You should go. You need to. I love you. I love you, I love you, I friggin’ love you and I want to hold onto you till the friggin’ sun explodes._ Dean closed his eyes. He wanted to say something. Anything. He needed to.

Problem was? He couldn’t utter a damn word of it. His tightening throat wouldn’t let him.

“I want to thank you.”

Dean breathed. He cleared his throat. “For what?” he asked.

“...For everything?”

Dean backed away, but not enough to pull them entirely from their embrace. He supposed Cas’ voice got higher there than he meant to let it. He smiled best as he could for him.

Cas went on, “Dean, I know I’ve told you this before, but without you I wouldn’t even be doing this. Sure, I’d still be going to university, but it wouldn’t be for what I wanted. Not even close. I...I just want you to know how much that means to me.”

Dean bit his lip. He nodded.

“I repeat that because I want you to remember it. To really—” Cas raised two fingers, and set them against Dean’s forehead, “—drill it into that obnoxiously thick skull of yours.”

They shared a laugh. Dean took his hand out of his face, but he didn’t let go once it settled at their sides. “I think I got the picture just fine, thanks.”

“Hey. Sometimes it’s that hard to tell with you.”

“You callin’ me a dumbass?”

“Of course not. I’m just saying, I’ve noticed this trend where it’s especially difficult for you to accept any sense of gratitude from someone. And that trend is coming to an end tonight. Whether you like it or not.”

“Pushy.”

“Damn right. Anyway,” Cas said, at least some amount of seriousness returning, “I think it’s important that I also reiterate that I’m not leaving you. Literally, yes. But not in any other way.

“Even when I’m getting off the plane, or walking to class, or, hell, even when I’m asleep, I’m still with you—”

Dean kissed him. Not to shut him up or distract himself, or anything like that, no. But to thank him, too.

When he ended the kiss, Dean at least forced himself to look Cas in the eye. He hoped that would be enough to get his point across.

Seconds passed, and it seemed so. With a sudden wave of confidence, Dean opened his mouth.

It nearly closed on its own. His words switched in an instant that he knew took too long. “You’re gonna do great, Cas. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“And I mean that, too.”

“I know, Dean. I know...”

Selfishly Dean didn’t want to let him, but Cas was the first to let go. Wiping his eyes, he moved the things out of his car’s seat and sat down.

“Gabriel’s flying you out, right?” Dean managed.

Cas grumbled. “He was _supposed_ to. But now Michael is instead. Hooray.”

“You’ll live.”

“No I won’t. Michael hates me. He’ll probably toss me out of the plane.”

“Just make sure you wear a parachute, then. Easy.”

Cas gave him a look. “I’m going to leave now.”

Dean laughed. “Sorry.” Resting a hand against the opening of the door, he leant in.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” Cas said, crossing his heart. “So you know I made it alright.”

“You better. Or I’m drivin’ over to Chicago myself.”

Cas laughed. “You know, I actually wouldn’t mind that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Feel welcome to stop by anytime. You know, if you ever get lonely, or miss my pretty face. A nine hour drive is nothing to ask of you, right?”

“For you? I’d cross the Atlantic.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Cas grabbed the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition. He didn’t turn it. “See you soon, Dean.”

Dean nodded. He kissed Cas slow, and he kissed him good.

Ending it, Cas bumped their foreheads together. After moment too brief, he sat back and grinned. His eyes were bluer than they should’ve been.

Dean closed the door for him. “Later, Cas.”

Cas drove away, and Dean laughed as he nearly hit the neighbor’s trashcan. Even with a car, Cas was a clumsy son of a bitch. Even with his family controlling every breath he took, he was more than smart and willing enough to enter college his own way. He was losing every game he played; that never stopped him from doing his damndest. He was gleaming. He was hurting. 

He turned the corner, and Dean sent him off with a wave. With a fond smile too, even if neither of them could see it. Even if neither of them felt it.

Cas needed to leave. Dean recognized that as much as he could, stopping himself at the edge of the driveway.

**Author's Note:**

> ChildHelp National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-422-4453. [Their website](https://www.childhelp.org).  
> National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1-800-799-7233, 1-800-787-3224 (TTY). [Their website](https://www.thehotline.org).  
> As far as I know, the hotlines are only toll free if calling from the USA. If I could find reliable information on what other hotlines countries have available for these situations, I'd list them here too.
> 
> Thank you for reading my fic. Know that spiritually I'm giving you a big hug right now <3


End file.
